The Promise
by caskett-case
Summary: "She was finally letting herself agree with what he always claimed- we make a pretty good team, you know. Even if he did remind her a little of Hooch." Written pre-Knockdown- my version of the kiss. Updated to fix grammatical mistakes and such.


_A/N: Yes, yes I know. I posted this almost four months ago now. Why are you getting alerts for it? Well, I felt compulsed to correct the glaring grammatical mistakes I made the first time around, when I was so eager to post this that I turned objective pronouns into possessive and wrote sentences that made no logical sense. _

_So if anyone here is reading this for the first time, this was my take on [prior to its occurrence] the Knockdown kiss. _

_Second, for those of you reading this who are also readers of my other fic, Crash and Burn, I will continue it eventually. It's on hiatus. For those of you who have not read Crash and Burn, that is another in-progress Castle fic of mine, and maybe.. you know, when you're done with this one and review it... you might want to go to my profile and click on that one? Check it out? Everyone loves reviews. So please, when you are finished, rant or rave all you want by reviewing! _

_I think I'm done now. Oh, one last thing. In the miniscule likelihood that someone would accuse me of such, I do NOT own Castle. _

* * *

Twelve years.

The first three she had spent dedicating her career, her livelihood, to find an answer. She never spent a waking minute not thinking about it, wracking her brain for clues or leads.

The next six years she spent realizing she had to move on. _They_ had to move on. She had to save her father, who had been drowning in a bottomless ocean of alcohol. She still thought about Johanna Beckett all the time, but she knew that if she went back- back to the hours of dimly lit research in the middle of the night, back to the medical examiner's notes and fading pictures of stab wounds that to her still burst brightly with a violent crimson- she would destroy herself.

But then _he_ showed up, and consequently, the past three years had been spent with a shadow shrouding her- in more ways than one. Richard Castle pulled her pigtails and probed every part of her life she had been struggling to bury. He had made it his mission to find justice for Johanna, for her father. _For Kate._

Which was why Castle crumpled to his knees, tears threatening to pour down his face, at the sight of the fallen Detective Raglan.

Raglan had abruptly shaken up their lives two days ago when he called Kate, informing her that he was willing to reveal information that would possibly shed light on her mother's case. They had arranged to meet tonight, a few blocks from the precinct. And here they were, meeting each other.

However, it was a one-sided affair. Raglan never uttered a greeting nor did he tell Kate and Castle what they had been so anxious to hear. When they met Raglan that night, he was face down on an asphalt grave, rose red blood the only decorations surrounding him. Raglan was dead.

Kate knelt beside him, crouching on the balls of her feet, knuckles whitening as she gripped her knees to keep herself from trembling. A jagged breath escaped her lips. Castle's eyes reflexively squeezed shut at the heart-wrenching gasps that shattered the solemn silence between them.

"I failed you, mom," she croaked out with a sob. Tears began to flood uncontrollably from her eyes, and Castle made one last attempt to stifle his own. He gulped, trying hard to swallow the pain and frustration, but it was futile.

A bead trickled down from his eye, followed by another. And another.

He gently clutched one of the pale hands that rested on her knees and intertwined it with his own.

"You have not failed her," Castle coaxed in a gravelly voice.

He gently tugged her arm, forcing them both to rise to their feet. He kept a strong, comforting hold on her hand, caressing her knuckles, palm, fingers with his thumb.

"Whoever did this must have known something. If we can find who killed Raglan, it might be a bigger clue than any information he could have offered."

He removed his hand from hers, instantly leaving her with a cold, longing feeling where his warmth and reassurance had been. He reached up with the same hand and wiped a tear from her cheek.

His hand lingered there for a moment before dropping down to his side quietly. His lips were parted slightly, wanting so badly to comfort her but unable to put it into words. His cobalt eyes were torn and tired as he stared into Kate's glossy emeralds, which mirrored the fatigue in his eyes.

She averted her gaze down to the road beneath them.

"I can't do it. Maybe I'm just not good enough to solve this," he heard her mutter.

His sullen countenance deflated further at this. But Castle refused to see her defeated.

"But you are," he refuted. He reached out his hand for her once again, this time towards her chin, tilting her face up to meet his gaze.

"How many times must I tell you, Kate…"

Chills pricked her spine and sent a juddering sensation through her body at the sound of his voice when he said her name. So sweet. So compassionate. And so… _vulnerable._

His fingers ghosted against her arm and slowly ran along it, from the tip of her shoulder down to her elbow. Back and forth, rhythmically. Soothingly.

"How many times must I tell you…" his voice was barely above a whisper now. "You're extraordinary."

"Castle…"

Her voice was breathy, barely audible, and equally vulnerable as she spoke his name. She placed a shaky hand on his chest in an attempt to force them apart. The distance between their weary bodies was quickly evaporating, and she couldn't let their emotions escalate into something they would regret. It wasn't right. She couldn't do that to Josh.

_Josh._ As far as the cardiologist was concerned, Kate was at the precinct doing paperwork. He had no idea about the arranged meeting with Detective Raglan. Hell, he barely knew about her mother's murder. They had been together for months; he had been with her for months. But he hadn't been_ there_ for her.

Emotionally, she was still isolated. Opening herself up to him didn't feel right. It didn't feel natural, the way it had with Castle.

To make matters more difficult, Kate knew that Josh despised Castle. They'd have lunch together and talk about their respective workplaces, and every time Kate began a sentence with "Castle and I did this" or "Castle and I did that", Josh would let out a grumble and voice his jealousy.

It made Kate feel slightly guilty for confiding in Castle and not Josh, but they had cultivated a deep friendship- they were _partners._

Was it rather unorthodox?

Yes.

Did it work?

_Yes,_ and she was finally letting herself agree with what he had always claimed.

_We make a pretty good team, you know. _

(Even if he did sometimes remind her a little of Hooch.)

If they hadn't meshed so well, they wouldn't have been there. In a dark, deserted back alley in Manhattan, a corpse laying lifeless just yards away, with his hand on her arm- steadily dragging them closer, her palm against his chest in weak protest.

It was at that moment that Kate Beckett let her walls tumble completely. She could handle her situation with Josh later. She was emotionally drained. There was no will in her mind left to hold back what her heart had been fighting her for. What she needed, _who_ she needed, was the man who would risk everything to catch the bastard who murdered her mother.

The man who would do anything to make her happy.

"What are you thinking about?"

Castle suddenly woke her wandering mind, his voice reverberating in her ear and his lips dangerously close to her temple. His hand was still slowly tracing patterns along the length of her arm.

She turned her head away from him, her dark auburn hair gently grazing the side of his face and allowing the familiar aroma of cherries to fill his senses.

She pulled away from his grasp with a sigh and met his eyes once again as she chewed her lower lip.

"There are times when I wish that I had never trusted you enough to tell you about my mom."

His brows furrowed, a look of hurt crossing his face.

"But," she continued, softening the blow. "Then I realized that we never would have found Coonan. I never would have known what I do now."

She paused again, allowing what she was saying to sink in.

"And maybe it would have been better to not tell you. Maybe it would have kept me from ever re-investigating it, which would have salvaged many hours of sleep and countless tears."

Again, she stopped. This time it was to regain her composure, and seeing this, he longed to reach out to her fragile body and just hold her.

Her voice cracked when she continued.

"Castle, you are one of the few whom I can trust with this. And you've actually given me hope that maybe, just maybe, we will solve my mom's case."

"We will," he assured her in a hushed tone.

For the first time that night, Kate allowed herself to smile. She didn't break into that adorable grin of hers nor did it even reach her eyes, but nonetheless, her lips curved upward out of sheer gratitude that he was there with her.

His hand, still running along her upper arm, broke its course and continued up her shoulder, her neck, and he tenderly cupped her cheek in his hand. They both allowed centripetal force to gradually bring their bodies closer. Their hearts beat wildly to the point that Castle couldn't tell if it was his throbbing pulse he was feeling in his fingertips, or hers. His mouth hovered over hers, his breath warming her skin. Her eyes fluttered shut, and their lips met.

Kate was taken aback at first and stiffened at the contact, more stunned that they were actually kissing, that this was actually a reality, than anything. But in an instant, she responded just as hungrily and affectionately.

And she allowed herself to just be.

Castle's other hand snaked along her upper back and pulled her flush against him. His tongue gently skimmed along her lower lip, and she eagerly met him, caressing the sensitive muscle and causing a low moan to escape from Castle's throat.

She placed her hands on his face, fingers brushing his clean-shaven jaw line. She never wanted to let him go. But the need for oxygen became much too great and reluctantly, they parted.

Her face remained cupped in his hand, with his other hand still gently pressed against her back. Her hands slid down to his broad shoulders, and she clung to them for dear life. She leaned her forehead against his, a new tempest of tears welling in her eyes.

"We will solve this murder, Kate."

Her lips quivered, and the tears began falling. She buried her face in his shoulder, staining his jacket with salty drops. He held her trembling body tightly.

"I promise."

* * *

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_Oh, and another quick A/N: I just want to let you all know that you guys are wonderful. Every single one of you that has ever reviewed- whether it be Crash and Burn, Elephas, There, or this story. You are all fucking fantastic, and it is every single one of you who keeps me writing and warms my heart simply because you all care enough to write a few lines. It means the world to me. All of you- just wow. Thank you. Some of the things you have said are just... extraordinary. :) And it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy, and I love you guys for that! Thank you. All of you. You are outstanding!_


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